


After Death: James Can't Regret

by CaptainErica



Series: After Death [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Back to wizard heaven again, Gen, I enjoy wizard heaven imma explore it a bit, James potter wakes up, This is a lot less happy than it could have been, but like death man, this little white room is going to get some use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 14:01:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4103533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainErica/pseuds/CaptainErica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Potter has just died, and now he needs to know if his sacrifice bought his family the time they needed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Death: James Can't Regret

**Author's Note:**

> This story is in the same vein as my other "After Death" story, except potentially more sad.   
> This is also the technical first in the series, so...enjoy ^^

James hadn’t made a point of imagining what it would be like when he died, but he could definitely say that at 13 years old he had imagined that he would grow old and die with Lily Evans by his side. His life expectancy had shortened rather dramatically as his 7th year came to a close, however, and so had his happy-go-lucky view of his future.

It became a life-line for him, imagining his advanced age with Lily’s hair going silver while they watched their grandchildren run around their house. Godric’s Hollow was the perfect place for them to live, the house that he had grown up in was just down the road and it was a small all-magical community. It was safe, and quiet, and they could have raised their children there.

 _Could have._ James feels his eyes flutter, and it is like he is sleeping through a bad dream. They could have had so much…he’d finally had everything he’d ever dreamed of…

His eyes flutter again, and they start to open. A room swims into view before him. It’s white, but despite what he might have imagined beforehand, it’s not blindingly so. He’s sitting in a chair, he notices after a couple of seconds, but it doesn’t really feel like he’s sitting in a chair. His mind is all over the place and suddenly the room isn’t white anymore, it’s green and it flashes and there is a shrill voice hissing through his head.

“Not Lily and Harry, too.” He moans, and is shocked by the sound of his own voice reverberating off the walls of the room. He hadn’t grabbed his wand off the coffee table. He hadn’t even tried. He’d gone straight for the door; he’d been reckless and ridiculous like he always was. Like Lily had always picked on him for being.

He drops his head into his hands and is too focused on his sadness to notice the feeling. “Get out of there Lily. Get our baby boy out of there.” He says it, he says it again. He keeps saying it, but he doesn’t believe it will help; he’s finding it harder and harder to keep up the faith in this little white room.

He hears the door open, and wonders why he isn’t surprised that there is a door here. “James?” It’s a soft whisper, but he would know that voice anywhere. It had woken him up who knew how many mornings for a large majority of his life.

“Mum?” Thinking about speaking makes his voice come out all trembling and sad like he was new at it or like he hadn’t spoken in years.

There are tears flowing down her soft cheeks, and she’s younger looking than he thinks he’s ever seen. “Did I fail them, mum?” He whispers, and she rushes forward to pull him up into a hug. His legs don’t work properly and he stumbles, but she’s holding him up, just like she always had before she got ill.

“Shh, just wait, sweetie. It’s all too new for you right now.” She whispers, pulling back from the hug to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I need to leave you, now. Just for a moment. It takes so long to get used to everything, so, so long.” She whispers fiercely, backing away and taking a deep breath.

He nods and watches her leave, but he can’t make himself move from where he was standing. He can believe that it takes a long time to adjust, he’s still not certain where the door came from, or how he just saw his mother. How could he adjust to this? Why had she come in only to leave him so soon after?

After the door closes, he drops to his knees and lets himself feel. He feels the ground beneath him and it’s just like the wood floors Lily had been so excited about in the kitchen. He feels his shirt, and it’s soft and warm and so are his pants and all he can think of are the matching track suits that Moony and Padfoot had laughingly presented to him and Harry. He lifts his head up to look around the room and notices a second chair pressed up against the far wall; and just how far surprised him because he had been so certain that just a moment ago the room had been barely bigger than Harry’s nursery.

He wants to cry again because he doesn’t really know what that means, but it very well could mean that Lily didn’t make it. He whips around to face the other wall, wondering if there was a little high-chair tucked away in some corner. Willing there not to be, but unable to stop himself from imagining that there will be.

There wasn’t another chair, he didn’t see one anywhere else in the room. He turns back to the second chair, the Lily chair, and pulls his knees up to his chest to wait. He wonders how long it has been, how long he has been dead.

He wonders if time worked the same here, or if he was gone for mere seconds to the living world. Whatever else he wonders is cut off, when rather suddenly, and yet almost as if nothing at all had changed, a beautiful redhead is sitting in the chair. Her eyes are closed, and her hair is long, long like 6th year when he had sworn off her but couldn’t stop himself from wishing he hadn’t. Long like the year they became friends and they first started randomly meeting in the Astronomy Tower to watch the stars during the lulls in her rounds.

She’d tease him then, telling him that she should report him for being out after curfew, and he’d just smile back at her and dare her to do it. She never did, because she secretly (not so secretly) enjoyed having a partner to star gaze with.

Her clothes were white, or were they blue? Green? They seemed to shift in color as if whatever Lily was thinking was dragging color into her world. She gasps, once, and James rockets to his feet…but he doesn’t move…he lets her come around.

He takes a steadying breath and casts his eyes around the room once more; still no baby chair. He turns his chair around to face Lily’s, and sits down. He was going to wait for her, just like he always had and always would.


End file.
